


Serpentine Movements

by shenanigans1414



Series: The Parallel Riverdale Universe Where Things Don't Suck for Kevin [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Fix-It, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, I can't believe I wrote another one, Light Angst, M/M, head canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 07:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15019439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenanigans1414/pseuds/shenanigans1414
Summary: Joaquin's perspective for parts 1 and 2 of my universe that is less miserable than canon. (Basically same shit, different narrator.)





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've got writer's block for everything except this particular pairing! So let's take a different perspective, shall we?

Joaquin is 7 years old when he first falls in love. His new baby sister is tiny and precious and everything he didn’t know he wanted. He spends ages with her on a pillow on his lap, just watching her sleep. He promises Mama that he’ll always keep her safe because he is her _hermano_ and she is their _chiquita_.

Joaquin is 9 years old when his family changes again: He gets another baby sister and he loses his father. Papa had only been around for the last 2 or 3 years (he’d been “away” before) and as Mama got more and more pregnant, he’d been around less and less. And when he was around he’d yell a lot until he’d fall asleep in funny places. Mama cries and cries and cries, until finally some of his uncles yell back at Papa and tell him to stop coming home. The new baby is sweet and wonderful and that’s good. His _abuela_ comes to stay with them and that’s good.  Papa’s gone and honestly that’s good too. But Mama is sad. He promises Mama that he’ll always try to make it so that she never needs to cry again.

Joaquin is 13 years old when he makes a terrible decision. Mama has been working so, so hard ever since _abuelita_ had to go back to Mexico. He tries to help by watching _las_ _ni_ _ñas_ whenever he can—he loves doing that, even if they are a _lot_ of work—but Mama worries about money. He’d tried doing odd jobs around the trailer park but $5 here and there wasn’t enough. He’s sitting on his steps brooding when along comes one of his uncles (he has lots and lots of “uncles” but only one real _tio_ who lives in Santa Fe). He tells Joaquin that he could help take care of his family if he joined the Southside Serpents. Serpents take care of their own and they’d be able to find better paying work for him if he was officially one of them. He’s not sure—his father is a Serpent, after all—but this uncle says that most of the other Serpents don’t like his father either. They feel bad for Joaquin and his family, and they want to help. They’d be willing to let him in even though he’s younger than usual—typically people don’t join until high school. Joaquin knows his mama wouldn’t like it, but he thinks about how hard she works and how thin she is and how while she doesn’t cry she also doesn’t smile. He tells his uncle FP that yes, he’ll join.

Joaquin is 16 when he makes another terrible decision. Up until then, he’s been on the periphery of the inner circle as a low-level dealer and errand boy. The money is so-so, but at least he isn’t in on Serpent business and that eases his guilty conscious to some extent. Then FP approaches him to say he’s been keeping an eye on Joaquin and that he’s noticed he’s reliable and sharp. He’s quiet and keeps a cool head under pressure. That’s what FP needs as an “assistant”—basically a capo. There’d be better pay, but the work would be riskier. The work would be more likely to make Mama cry, too—she’d be so disappointed if she knew what he was doing _now_ but if his crimes got worse? It’d probably kill her. But Joaquin thinks of his _corazoncitas_ and how they never have anything new or nice and they don’t even get to go to the movies. How they don’t see Mama as much as they need because Mama works too many shifts. How if they stay in the trailer they’ll stay in their terrible school district and they’ll never go away to college and escape the poverty they live in. They don’t deserve that, Mama doesn’t deserve that. He tells FP that yes, he’ll step up.

Joaquin is 17 when he makes the worst decision in his life. FP calls him about a “clean-up job” which turns out to involve the dead body of a red-headed teenager. He should say no. He should run out of there and call the cops. But he doesn’t. When he seemed hesitant, FP and Mustang just _look_ at him. They don’t even need to say anything to threaten him. So Joaquin wraps the body in plastic and helps put it in a freezer. He mops up the blood. He sprays down the entire cellar with bleach. Then he goes home, throws up, and stays in the shower until the hot water is long gone. He thinks about his childhood promise to never make his mother cry, and weeps as he scours his skin clean.

 

Joaquin is 17½ when he first sees Kevin. He doesn’t fall in love at first sight. He doesn’t realize how this boy will change his life forever. He just thinks that the prissy guy in the pickup is hot and would probably be an enjoyable hookup. He knows he has a good success rate with that type—easily flustered, still coming to terms with the fact that they like dick. All he has to do is unsettle them a little, then go in for the kiss and they’re putty in his hands. Plus, they never want anything more from him and Joaquin is _not_ looking for anything serious. He doesn’t even really _need_ to make a pass at this boy; he’s already got a good list of guys he rotates through but this one is sexy as fuck. Hell, Joaquin has been watching his profile more than James Dean’s, which is really saying something. So when he finally gets a chance to make some eye contact, he gives Mr. Prissypants a wink. Sure enough, his target turns bright red and he knows he’s in… if he can be bothered to stand up and go for it. As he watches the guy walk towards the concession stand, he gets a glimpse of his ass and that provides plenty of motivation.

Joaquin had apparently misjudged the guy—he wasn’t closeted or in denial about his sexuality— and _damn_ does this boy know how to kiss. He’s hardly prissy. It’s funny—appearance-wise, he’s _waaay_ more buttoned-up and uptight than any guy Joaquin has gone for before but he’s also one of the least inhibited. If he’d met the guy in Fox Forest rather than the drive-in, he had no doubt that things would be much more intense than making out. Thinking about what they could be doing instead makes Joaquin loath to let him get back to his friends, and he certainly isn’t leaving without the guy’s number. And maybe Joaquin is thinking with his dick when he doesn’t immediately drop Sheriff Keller’s son but instead makes a pact to keep this shit secret.

Joaquin is thinking with his dick again when he texts the Sheriff’s baby boy, pact or no pact. He knows it’s a terrible idea but does it anyway because _damn_ he wants to hit that. He’s genuinely disappointed that Kevin’s not free that night. Normally, if his intended partner is unavailable or seems to be blowing him off, Joaquin just goes to the next guy on the list. But he’s still thinking of that ass and that jawline and those eyes and ends up asking a question that leads to a discussion. This is not something he normally does. He doesn’t have epic text conversations, he’s not a 15-year-old girl for fuck’s sake. It’s usually just “DTF?” and some logistics. He’s proud that he knows almost nothing about the guys he hooks up with—sometimes he doesn’t even know their real names. But he’s asking this Kevin kid all sorts of questions and hoarding the answers. He’s even talking about himself and he can’t remember the last time he opened up to someone like this.

Joaquin keeps breaking his standard-operating-procedure, which is confusing as fuck. When he meets up with Kevin, he doesn’t have them get off and back to their lives ASAP. He savors his time with the guy. Hell, he gives him a nickname. Instead of moving Preppy to the bottom of his rotating list, he meets up with him again and again. He meets the guy for food first. They keep talking and getting to know one another. When he gets a booty-call from one of his regular hook-ups (a jock with serious self-loathing that made for really intense sex) he ignores him and goes to make-out with Kevin instead. He realizes that they’re basically dating and when the topic comes up, he voluntarily agrees to go steady or whatever bullshit it’s called these days when you decide to be boyfriends. He’s in a goddamned “exclusive relationship” with Kevin Keller, and he’s enjoying the hell out of it. He seriously wants to fuck his preppy boyfriend (he keeps dreaming about it) but he can tell he’s not ready and settles for hand-jobs and the most _amazing_ head he’s ever had. When Kevin is ready, he lets Kevin fuck him (only the second time Joaquin’s ever bottomed) and it’s surprisingly good. Then he fucks Kevin and it’s seriously the best sex he’s ever had and Joaquin has had quite a lot of sex for someone his age. He’s so, so happy. He tells his mama about his amazing boyfriend and she’s so, so happy too.

 

Joaquin is a few months short of 18 when he makes the second worst decision of his life. Through a random twist of fate, FP finds out about Kevin and demands that Joaquin spy on his boyfriend and his nosy friends to see what they know about the Blossom boy’s murder. Joaquin should say no. He should run away and call the cops. He should at least tell Kevin. But he doesn’t.

Joaquin hates himself. He had something special with his preppy boyfriend—he was happy in a way that he’d never felt before—but now he’s ruined it. Kevin trusts him and he’s abusing that trust. Kevin and his do-gooder gang are trying to solve the Big Mystery and he actually knows the answers and he’s not telling. He’s helping the bad guy cover up a crime instead. _His_ crime, too. It’s not like he’d forgotten what he did for FP (he hadn’t slept well since that night) but now its always on his mind. It eats at his soul like acid. Jason Blossom’s dead body dominates his thoughts in a way that Kevin’s sexy body did not so long ago.

Joaquin manages to forget that he’s a rat sometimes. He forgets that he’s scum, that he’s a terrible person. He gets lost in the moment with Kevin (not _only_ during sex, mind) and is genuinely happy. But as soon as he remembers, the self-hatred is even worse. And now there’s a sense of inevitable failure in his relationship because he can’t see any way in hell that this is going to work out. They’re going to catch FP eventually—the Riverdale cops aren’t _that_ incompetent, his Preppy is so sharp that his dad must be too—and then FP will sell him out to knock a few years off his no doubt hefty prison sentence. And Kevin will hate him and his sisters will be afraid of him and his mama will cry more than she ever had in her life _because of him._

Joaquin rides the tiger’s back and tries to enjoy the ride while it lasts but he can’t. Then the tiger stops running and the truth comes out and it’s even worse than he imagined because Mustang is dead _._ The loose ends are getting cleaned up and it seems like Joaquin’s life is in danger, not just his liberty. And worse than that, Kevin knows what an utter asshole he is. Joaquin’s devasted: He hears the disappointment in Kevin’s voice and sees the betrayal in his eyes and just sits there and takes it because he deserves it. He doesn’t know what to say; nothing can make it better. They’re broken. So he’s broken. And he’s running for his life, leaving his mama and _hermanas_ behind. He can’t even _begin_ to process that so he just pushes that thought away. He throws some stuff in a bag, grabs some of the cash he had saved, and leaves the rest with a note for his mama along with the keys to his motorcycle. He doesn’t have time to write much more than an apology and instructions that Fez will pay $1K for the bike. There’s no room for an explanation but what could he possible say? “Mama I’m worse than my father ever was. I helped cover up a murder and now I have to leave town before I get killed or sent to prison. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. Sorry. Love always, Chimo.” No. he can’t do that. Even if it’s the truth, he can’t bring himself to write it.

Joaquin waits for the bus to San Jacinto with Kevin. It’s awkward and awful. They used to have these comfortable silences but this one is full of resentment and regret. Kevin says he doesn’t even know him and it hurts like a knife to the heart. Kevin angrily kisses him goodbye and that hurts even more. Joaquin boards the bus like a man headed to the electric chair. He throws out the tip about the jacket as a last, desperate lifeline (or maybe a farewell present—perhaps Kevin and his friends can put everything together and feel like super sleuths). He can’t think of anything to say that will capture how truly sorry he is about _everything_ so he goes with a massive understatement and a sad smile instead.

 

Joaquin is almost 18 and he feels like he's already ruined his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was on my honeymoon, which seems like a good excuse.  
> This surprisingly tricky, but hopefully enjoyable!

Joaquin gives himself just a few minutes to sit shell-shocked as the bus heads away from Riverdale. He doesn’t have time to wallow right now; he knows that if he starts processing everything that just happened and what it all meant, he’d be completely unable to stop. Because holy _shit,_ his life just fucking _exploded_. But he’s a practical guy—always had been—and after he committed his first felony he researched various contingency plans and strategies for evading anyone looking for him. So he keeps calm and thinks ahead. He does some quick Googling on his phone—he’ll let himself use it until the next stop, hopefully it will steer anyone tracking him towards San Jacinto instead of his actual destination. He looks up bus schedules and picks a different city to transfer to, one with a youth hostel. He’s got his fake ID (Juan Cruz) and he knows how to find work under-the-table. If he keeps moving, not staying in one place for too long, he _should_ be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Although his long-term outlook is hazy, to say the least. Will he ever get to go home? Will he ever be able to even see Mama and the girls again? No, he can’t think like that yet. He’s got to stay positive.

Before powering it down and disassembling his phone, Joaquin lets himself scroll through his photos. He picks a few favorites—mostly his family, but two or three of his friends and quite a few of Kevin—and emails them to a burner email account. Maybe he can get them developed or something, so he’ll at least be able to see their faces. He’s going to need something to keep himself going, after all. He might be practical, but he can’t pretend that he isn’t leaving his soul in the town behind him.

 

A month or so later, Joaquin finds he has _plenty_ of time to wallow. Too much time. The pictures he has of the people he cares about are a double-edged sword—they give him something to hope for but it’s utter _hell_ to look at them. He’s homesick. He’s heartsick. He’s so, so lonely. He’d hated it in the hostels—bunk beds, rooms full of snoring, sniffling young people he can’t relate to—but at least there was a form of forced socialization. At these extended-stay dives, it’s too easy to retreat from everyone and sulk on his own. So he forces himself to go out and hang out in dreary dive bars—he doesn’t talk to anyone but sitting in silence with a bunch of other sad sacks as they half-watch various sporting events is better than ruminating alone in his room. Which he still does, of course, but not _exclusively_.

He mostly ruminates over Mama, Bella, & Saba. Their absence is like a festering wound he can’t stop picking at, made worse by imagining how _his_ absence is hurting their lives. They must be so worried, so confused. He’d sent Mama a few emails—he has an account through a site that is supposed to mask his IP address but he only dares to check it once a week, stopping by a public library before getting on a bus for the next city. And he can’t really think of anything to say other than that he “was fine” and he “missed them.” No information about where he was. No update on when he’d be coming home. No further details about why he’d left (he wasn’t going to provide a written confession for anyone). Mama wrote essays in response (updating him on the girls and begging him to come back soon and safe) and he’d print them so he could read and re-read them until he could practically recite them from memory.

Which isn’t to say he _isn’t_ thinking about Kevin a whole hell of a lot, too. And since he’s had no contact from the boy (how could he?) his imagination is utterly torturous: Kevin hates him for his betrayal. Kevin curses his name constantly. Kevin is with someone new, in love and happy. Kevin misses him terribly and cries himself to sleep. Kevin doesn’t think about him at all... Each scenario devastating in its own way.  Actually, Joaquin finds he thinks about Kevin way more than he thought he would—he cares about Preppy, sure, but he didn’t realize he’d miss the guy more than the friends he’s known since he was 7. Yet he does. Thinking that he’ll never again see Kevin’s smile in person, never smell his skin, hear his laugh…all that causes a churning feeling in his gut that he can’t identify for the longest time. When he _does_ figure it out, it’s like someone squirt lemon juice in an open wound or jostled a bone that was already broken. He realizes that he’s in love with Kevin Keller, who likely hates his guts and who he’ll likely never see again. Joaquin would laugh if he wasn’t so close to crying.

 

Joaquin has ways to distract himself, of course. He works more than he needs to, drinks more than he ought to, reads whatever he can get his hands on (primarily trash). At first he resists more physical distractions. It wasn’t like he didn’t have offers—hostels are full of young people looking for adventure, after all. It just feels wrong, like cheating. But what the hell, surely they’re broken up? Kevin hates him, right? Maybe losing himself in a sea of flesh is just the ticket to ease his aching heart.

He makes out with a tourist from somewhere in Europe, but ultimately the guy’s build reminds him too much of Kevin so he ends things before they go any further. He messes around instead with people who are Kevin’s total opposites, though it’s hard to get excited about them. One night he goes to a gay bar; he immediately regrets it due to the party-like atmosphere but he’d spent the cab fare so he hooks up with someone anyway. None of it is particularly enjoyable. He finds that anonymous meaningless sex doesn’t satisfy the way that sex with someone you cared about does, someone who knew your body and whose body you knew. He laughs bitterly at this realization, amazed at how much he’d changed in the past few months.

He’s basically given up on sex, with a few exceptions. There’s the shy guy who pays him for a BJ—with him receiving, not giving. That was weird. There’s a random motel neighbor—a woman a little older than him who’d been drifting for a while for some reason. They smoke together in total silence a few times and on the third night she invites him in. He spends the rest of the week with her. It’s some of the most miserable sex he’d ever had, but it helps them both feel _something_ at least. But when Joaquin moves on, he decides that sleeping with strangers is making him _more_ lonely, not less. And he still feels like he’s betraying Kevin, the only person he’s interested in anyway. Maybe he’ll try celibacy for once in his life.

 

He’s in that reflexive frame of mind when he decides to go to church one Sunday. He thinks it will help him feel less lonely, being part of a community for a little bit. He finds one with a healthy Hispanic population and he figures if he just sits in the back, he can imagine it’s _his_ congregation. That’d be a little taste of home to boost to his spirit, and he does feel better afterwards. But he can’t sneak in and out; he attracts way more attention than he’d anticipated. Funny, Joaquin always thought he gave off a ‘keep away I’m trouble’ vibe (and most of his experiences backed this impression up) yet to members of St. Andrew’s, it was like he has a sign around his neck that said ‘feed me  & hug me’. And they _do_. They aren’t scared off when he admits that he’s on the run, that he’s in a gang—in fact, it redoubles their enthusiasm to help poor little ‘Juan.’

They quickly take over his pathetic little life. There’s Doña Reynosa, who forces him to move into her quasi-boarding house, where she’s taken in a few other “strays” in need of supervision and reform. She’s harsh and scary but kind… in a way. She charges basically nothing for rent, but she _does_ have conditions for his stay. She’d demanded to know what he’d been studying before he left school, so he reads through the chemistry and US history textbooks she scrounged for him. Each week he needs to answer some questions she’d finds on the internet to prove he’s teaching himself. He also must read ‘good’ books that she brings him from the library—classics like Steinbeck and Garcia Marquez—and discuss them with her. And _of course_ each week he has to go to church, and confession, and youth group.

Youth group. Holy shit. Joaquin feels like he’s 50 years old around those kids, even if some are technically the same age as him. The shit they worry about, the sins they beat themselves up over…it’s like what Riverdale seems like it should be. He’s a monster compared to them, so he doesn’t talk much at the meetings. Instead, he keeps his peers at a distance. He also doesn’t out himself because he doesn’t need the headache. There’s a few girls who bat their eyes at him, and he _really_ doesn’t need that headache. He lets it get out that he’s hung up on someone and not ready to move on. He takes part in the various acts of service and charity, drinks punch, gets locked-in for sleepovers, and wonders how the _hell_ he ended up here.

As a matter of necessity, he develops quite the little fantasy life. He’s been taking care of himself, so to speak, for a while now so he’s thought up _tons_ of intricate scenarios…all starring Kevin. It helps him identify a few things he didn’t realize he was into. Quite a few of his of his recurring fantasies feature Dream Kevin loudly _begging_ him and them nearly getting caught or even attracting the attention of some interested spectators. He leaves tons of visible marks on Dream Kevin so everyone knows he’s taken. He kicks the asses of anyone who dares to check out _his_ Preppy, and that turns on Dream Kevin like nothing else. Dream Kevin looms over Joaquin, so much taller yet still submissive. And then there’s a few times when Dream Kevin is so desperate for him, so insanely turned on that he dominates Joaquin a bit, throwing his weight around and showing off those sexy muscles… Joaquin confesses each week to “impure thoughts” and resolves absolution, but never really repents and certainly doesn’t try to stop himself.

Eventually someone at St. Andrew’s realizes he’s good with little kids, so he starts helping out with catechism classes and babysitting during church events. This he actually enjoys, though it makes him miss his sisters like hell. He talks about his sisters and Mama to Señora Lopez, a sweet middle-aged lady who is a wonderful, non-judgmental listener. He even tells her about Kevin and his gut-churning revelation that he’s in love. Her advice is always the same—he needs to go back home, to reconnect with his family, with Kevin. That’s because he hasn’t told her about why he left home in the first place. It’s not that easy; surely he can’t just _go home._

By now, he’s realized that he’s not actively being chased and that he doesn’t need to skip town each week. Hell, he’s been in Franklin for over a month now and feels safe enough. But he doesn’t fully know the situation back home. The Riverdale paper is useless—they don’t report on the murder anymore, too busy talking about how the Southside is a cesspool and all the vermin there ought to be eradicated. Nice. He knows that FP is still in jail and Jason Blossom’s father had killed himself…and that was it. Tank and Joe don’t have connections to the inner circle to find out what was going on, so he doesn’t bother them. FP was really the only upper-tier guy he talked to, so he doesn’t have other potential sources of information. So he has no idea if anyone is looking for him, if the investigation is even ongoing, if FP is going to flip on him…there’s just too many unknowns. As bad as it is for his family for him to be missing, if he comes home only to be arrested and sent to _prison,_ things would be So. Much. Worse.

 

He’s back from spending the day shadowing Ernesto at his HVAC job, and figures he’ll kill some time before a church dinner on Doña Reynosa’s ancient desktop—his only source for the internet outside of the library. He realizes it’s been _forever_ since he checked his Facebook, so there’s probably tons of unread messages from friends back home. He’s not wrong—Tank and Joe and Nessa and just about everyone else have either messaged him or posted on his wall. Some of them even seem worried that he’s dead, and he feels horribly guilty.  Then he sees Kevin’s name and his heart nearly stops. He doesn’t have the courage to open it for a good five minutes, instead he just stares at the icon indicating his unread message and imagines what on earth it could possibly say. He decides it’s probably a ‘Dear John/Fuck You’ message; Kevin’s owed some closure after all. So he’s frankly relieved when it’s only one line since he expected a paragraphs-long tirade. When he actually _reads_ that line and figures out what Kevin means, he’s too stunned to be relieved. He could…go home? Is that what Kevin’s saying? For _real_? He wants to find out more but he thinks about the time zone difference and realizes Kevin would still be in school. So he has to wait at least two hours before he can call Kevin from the house’s landline.

Hearing Kevin’s voice is so overwhelming that at first he can’t even talk. It’s a gut punch, a slap in the face, a bucket of cold water over his head…but also Heaven. He stammers out something about needing further information and tries to focus on what Kevin is saying, not just the sound of his voice. It turns out all this running, all this loneliness, all this terror wasn’t even necessary. _For fuck’s sake._ But he’s too relieved to be pissed at the futility of it all. Then Kevin makes a little dig about how Joaquin had spied on him, how Joaquin had used him, and his heart plummets. Joaquin realizes that some part of him hoped that Kevin didn’t have a grudge, had let go of any and all bitterness, and that part of him is crushed. He worries that Kevin will never forgive him. But he’s so, so grateful that Kevin gave him this info, even if he _does_ hate him. He wants to tell Kevin how truly thankful he is that he’s able to go home to his family but can’t think of an adequate way to say it. He doesn’t want to hang up but can’t think of a reason to drag the call out and Kevin seems like he wants to go. So he says goodbye, again. But this time it’s different, because this time he’s heading _back_ to Kevin, back to his family. As much as he worries about a future with Kevin, he can’t stop his heart from swelling with joy at the thought of _going home._

 

Joaquin wants to leave immediately. He’d memorized the bus schedules from Franklin and if he catches a certain bus that leaves in about an hour, he could be in Riverdale in 30 hours. It’d take no time to pack. He could call a cab and be at the station in 20 minutes. But then he’d be running out on Doña Reynosa, on Señora Lopez, on Ernesto, on everyone else who’d welcomed him into their world. He’d be doing to them what he did to Mama and the girls, and he can never forgive himself for what he did to them. He ought to go to the Friday Fish Fry tonight and give everyone a proper goodbye, then catch another bus tomorrow morning. He ought to do that. But he doesn’t _want_ to. It’s been roughly 3 months, and Joaquin wants his family.

It’s Ernesto that catches him frantically pacing and muttering, and Ernesto who solves the problem. As soon as he hears Joaquin explain the issue, he tells Joaquin that _of course_ he’ll be on that bus tonight. He has Joaquin write a letter explaining what happened so he (Ernesto) can read it tonight at the dinner. Absolutely no one will hold it against him that he didn’t wait and say goodbye in person. Ernesto even gives Joaquin an old gym bag for the stuff that won’t fit in his backpack and promises him a ride to the station.

Joaquin keeps things vague in his letter but explains that he can go home to his family now, that the trouble he was in has blown over. He promises to never get in trouble like that again, and that he’s going to try to be a worthy person and a good Catholic. He thanks them all for what they’d done for him, for giving him family when he needed it most, for helping him turn his life around. He promises to keep in touch and includes his phone number and email. He even writes his real name. He writes a separate, more personal note for _Doña_  Reynosa and promises to finish school. He knows she’ll be checking up on him and frankly, he’s terrified of what she’d do if she found out he didn’t get his diploma.

The last thing he does before leaving for the station is call his mother from the house’s landline—he still needs to reassemble and charge his mobile. He leaves a voicemail message since she’s at work, hoping she’ll listen to it despite the unknown number. He’s nearly in tears as he tells her that he’s headed home and gives her his ETA. It feels _incredible_ to say “ _Vuelvo a casa_ , Mama.”

 

The thirty hours on the bus are the longest in his life. He mostly thinks about his sister and mother, how they’ll be excited but still disappointed, maybe even angry. He tries to figure out how in the hell he’s going to get himself back in school. But he also has some PG daydreams about Kevin. After all, Kevin had reached out to him…that has to mean something, right? He can’t _hate_ Joaquin if he did that. And if he doesn’t hate Joaquin, well, maybe there’s a small chance Joaquin can win him back somehow. He dares to hope for what he thought was completely impossible: Kevin Keller loving him _back_.

 

Joaquin has barely stepped off the bus before he’s tackle-hugged so hard he nearly falls over: Sabrina’s got his legs, Isabella’s got his middle, and Mama’s wrapped around his shoulders. They’re all squeezing him and laughing and weeping and yelling and beaming and it’s so wonderful that he does all those things too.

Finally things settle down enough that his mother can make herself heard. She grabs his face and gives him a giant kiss on his forehead. Then she smacks his ass like he’s 5 years old. “Joaquin Tomas Cruz DeSantos! Don’t you ever, ever, _ever_ do that to us again! You hear me? If you leave us like that again, I’ll find you and I’ll _kill_ you! You terrible, terrible boy! We missed you _so much_! We don’t care what you did wrong, don’t hide things from us! And _never_ hide from us like that! We’ll stand by you no matter what, dammit! I’ve been so worried and so angry and so _worried!_ ” The ranting love goes on for quite a bit longer, and Joaquin nods and smiles and promises to never, never, _never_ do this again. He takes a selfie with his crying, smiling family and texts it to Ernesto. He's so, so happy.

As they head home, Joaquin also promises to tell Mama the whole truth, once it’s just the two of them. He’s not going to lie to the people he loves ever again. He’ll tell the girls once they’re older, it can be a cautionary tale about staying out of trouble for them. He’s ashamed and worried about what they’ll think of him but it doesn’t matter. After what he put them through, they all deserve to know why.

Seeing his family drives home the pain he put them through and the joy he has at being home is underscored with an intense guilt. He vows to get his life in order for them, to be the best _hijo_ and _hermano_ he can be. His responsibilities come first, after all. Only after he’s made steps healing his family will he let himself go after what he _wants_ : Kevin.


End file.
